The True Measure of Wealth
by lorilee66
Summary: What if the gold from the River Monarch had never been found? An AU based on the first season episode The River Monarch.
1. Chapter 1

_This story is a response to a challenge issued on another board,__ wondering what would have happened in__ the episode_ The River Monarch _if Nick hadn't arrived at the mine to find the gold and the government came after the Barkleys to pay back the missing million__._

_I have set the events from the episode in about February 1877, around six months after Heath arrives at the ranch._

_Oh, and Eugene does not exist. _

_._

**April 21, 1877**

Jarrod rode slowly toward the ranch, the incident when he disembarked the train from Sacramento playing over in his mind.

"_It'll have to be cash," Jenkins told him when he went to the livery to borrow a horse for the ride home, "can't take your credit no more. Sorry, Mr. Barkley."_

There had been no way to prove Tom Barkley's innocence in the _River Monarch_ affair. With the family founder's abysmal bookkeeping, combined with the presumed death of Cyrus De Land, the man in charge of running the Barkley shipping line, and Jock McLean, Nick's former commander and investigator for the government, in a mine collapse mere hours after Jock telegraphed Washington about his belief Tom Barkley was involved with the ship's sinking, there was no evidence that anyone else had a hand in the gold's theft.

The court's decision to require repayment of the missing one million in gold from Tom Barkley's estate was covered by all the papers the moment it was handed down. And during the ten-day trip back to Stockton from Washington, Jarrod had ample opportunity to read what the fifth estate across the country had to say about it. But until he arrived, the attorney had no idea what the reaction in his hometown would be. The hosteller's comment, combined with averted eyes from people he thought he was on good terms with only served to fuel Jarrod's worst fears.

He arrived at the ranch, relieved to see the familiar white pillars of the house he called home.

"Jarrod!" Victoria exclaimed when he walked through the door. "Oh, Jarrod, darling, it's so good to have you back."

Jarrod leaned over to give his mother a quick kiss on the cheek. "And it's good to be back, lovely lady. I wish it was a more triumphant homecoming, however."

"Oh, nonsense." As Victoria took his hand and led him to the parlour, Jarrod saw behind her cavalier façade to the underlying worry she hid so well. "How was Washington?"

Jarrod sat beside his mother on the settee. "Dreary, dull and lonely," he admitted, "I should have agreed to let Nick come along. He certainly would have livened things up." He was gratified to see a brief smile flit across her face and didn't look forward to the next question he needed to ask. "And how have things been here?" Accustomed as he was to reading people's faces, Jarrod couldn't miss the pain and unease in Victoria's eyes.

"We're managing," was all she said, "but we can discuss that when everybody's home. I'm sure you'd like the opportunity to change before dinner after such a long trip."

Jarrod patted her hand. "You're right, as always, Mother." After all, any fallout from the _River Monarch_ disaster affected the whole family and they needed to deal with it together.

Talk over the dinner table was casual, no one discussing anything more serious than who took whom to the last social and what the weather was like while Jarrod was on the east coast. But the dark haired lawyer noticed not much was being eaten, even Nick was just pushing his food around on his plate. And when Silas came in with the offer of dessert, it was unanimously declined.

"Well, who wants to start?" Jarrod asked, pouring himself a scotch after handing drinks to each of his family members when they withdrew to the library.

"Jarrod, I think we'd like to hear in your own words what happened in Washington," Victoria told him. "The only information we've had is your wire and what's been written in the papers."

"If you can call that pack of lies 'information'," Nick snarled from his position at the fireplace beside Heath. "Jarrod, you should read what Doolin's been publishing. If it's not outright slander, it's pretty darn close."

Jarrod took a seat in the leather armchair. "Nick, you know as well as I do Peter Doolin's too smart to publish anything that could lead to a libel suit."

"Just tell us exactly what happened, Jarrod," Heath requested.

Jarrod took a deep breath. "Well, I guess I'll start with the good news, the part I've noticed the papers _aren't_ covering. The government lost the appeal to seize any assets Father and his estate acquired after the riverboat sunk. There just wasn't enough evidence to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that Father took the money, even with the telegram Jock McLean sent saying Father was guilty of sinking the _River Monarch_."

Victoria breathed a sigh of relief and everyone's posture lost some of its rigidity.

"But," Jarrod went on, "the part that was reported is true. We lost our appeal as well and we have thirty days to pay back the million dollars. With interest."

"But how can that be?" Audra protested. "If Father didn't take the money…"

The attorney just shook his head. "Even though they can't prove Father took it, we can't prove he didn't. And since the gold went missing while in the care of the Barkley shipping line, the court determined that Father's estate was still liable."

"But what about Melanie's statement?" Nick demanded. Melanie De Land knew about her father's involvement with Confederate sympathizers, the Knights of the Golden Circle, and knew they were responsible for the theft. "Why didn't they believe her?"

"It's not that they didn't believe her, Nick," Jarrod said, tired and discouraged from the weeks of legal wrangling and the long cross-country journey. "Her statement was labeled hearsay and wasn't admissible in court."

Everyone was silent for a few minutes to come to terms with the reversal in the Barkley family fortune.

"Can we pay it back, Jarrod?" Heath said finally, asking the question that was surely on everyone's mind.

Jarrod nodded wearily. "I did some calculations on the trip home. If we liquidate all our assets, mining, shipping, lumber, everything, plus some of the land and stock, we should be able to pay it back without having to sell off the entire ranch."

Audra's hand flew to her mouth in disbelief. "But surely all that's worth more than one million dollars," she objected.

"Yeah, well, that's assuming all the vultures out there give us market value," Nick told her bluntly after draining his glass. He walked over to the side table and refilled it. "Word's gotten out and we'll be lucky if we get fifty cents on the dollar." He looked over at Jarrod, who nodded confirmation.

"We'll get by," Victoria told her children with a determined smile, "after all, your father built all this from nothing. We had only a few hundred acres to our name when Jarrod was born." She spared a glance for Heath, whom they all knew grew up with even less. "Our strength is in our family, not our money." She got to her feet and walked over to her eldest son, placing a hand on his cheek. "You look exhausted, Jarrod. Why don't you go upstairs and get some sleep? We can just as easily figure everything out in the morning."

It was only after everyone retired for the night that Jarrod realized he didn't get a chance to ask about the unsettling episode in town and his mother's vague attempt to assure him that everything was fine.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Jarrod began the depressing task of organizing the family holdings for liquidation. He stared at the stack of papers in front of him, not sure where to start selling off the legacy of his father's lifetime.

Jarrod just opened the file on Barkley-Sierra Mining when he heard the unmistakable jingling of Nick's spurs. "Brother Nick," he greeted, not looking up.

"Jarrod." Nick took a seat on the corner of the desk. He picked up a folder, opened it, then put it down again. "Tell me the truth, Jarrod, how bad is it?"

Jarrod dragged a hand across his face as he sat back. "Even though we won't have as much of it, we'll still have the ranch and I have my law practice. Between those two things, we should do well enough." He looked up into shadowed hazel eyes. Nick had never been good at keeping secrets from his older brother. "Unless there's something you're not telling me."

Nick dropped an envelope on the stack of papers. "Just got this yesterday." Jarrod picked it up and unfolded its contents as Nick continued. "The army isn't renewing its contract for our beef and they've rejected our bid for supplying horses to the cavalry."

Jarrod shook his head. Both those contracts represented thousands of dollars in revenue. But Nick wasn't finished. "Saw Wagner in town this morning. He regrets to inform us that he won't be buying any of our fruit crop this year, so we'll have to look for another buyer. If you're counting on this ranch doing much more than break even, you might need to think again."

Nick stood and placed his hands on the desk, leaning closer to his brother. "Pappy, there's gotta be some way to prove Cyrus, Doolin and the others took that gold. For heaven's sakes, it's probably all sitting there in that mine!"

"And how are we going to look for it, Nick?" Jarrod challenged, blue eyes snapping. "The whole tunnel collapsed, burying Jock and Cyrus! You know as well as I do there's no way dig through all that rubble!" The two brothers glared at each other until Nick looked away.

"You're right, Jarrod," Nick apologized. "It's just… with these contracts being cancelled and our credit being refused…" He stopped, at an uncharacteristic loss for words. Jarrod offered him a cigar and came around the desk to light one for both of them.

Perching on the desk corner vacated by Nick, Jarrod took a long, slow drag on the cigar. "I meant to ask about that last night, Nick. How have things been in town?"

Nick had a puff of his own before answering. "Well, you remember all the slurs against Father when Heath first showed up?" At Jarrod's nod, Nick added, "Now the insults and name-calling are for the whole family. Guess the 'good people' of Stockton are as quick to tear someone down as they are to build him up."

"Mother and Audra?"

"They're putting on a brave face." Nick wandered over to the pool table, picked up a ball and started rolling it in his hand. "You heard Audra say Cody Marshall took Violet Millar to the social?" He looked over at Jarrod, who nodded. "Well, he was supposed to take Audra. Stood her up. I think the only person in town who's still talking to us is Melanie."

"Now, Nick," Jarrod chided, "it can't be that bad." But Jarrod remembered the averted eyes from the previous day and knew deep down it really was that bad.

Nick slammed the ball down on the table. "If only I hadn't been stupid enough to get shot, if I hadn't been lying in bed upstairs, I could've tracked Jock and Cyrus to that mine and got to the gold before the whole thing collapsed! Dammit, Jarrod…" Nick trailed off as the dark-haired attorney placed a brotherly hand on his shoulder.

"And if only Father had been a better bookkeeper, and if only the gold hadn't been stolen, and if only the North and South hadn't gone to war, none of this would have happened. You were just as likely to stop any of those as you were to stop this. Besides, we might have lost you in the mine, too."

Nick closed his eyes and sighed. "I just hate this, Pappy. I hate that this is destroying my family and there's not a damn thing I can do about it."

"We'll survive, brother Nick," Jarrod said, as much to reassure himself as the volatile rancher. "What was that Mother said last night? 'Our strength is our family, not our money'? We just have to keep remembering that."

"Yeah." The two brothers stood silently before Nick ran a hand through his dark hair. "Guess I should go. Heath's probably looking for me. This is a working ranch, after all." Nick clasped his brother's arm briefly, then went out the door with a determined stride, leaving Jarrod to the dismantling of the Barkley empire.


	3. Chapter 3

**April 27, 1877**

Victoria wandered through the house, looking for a bit of dust, a smudged window, anything that would keep her hands busy and her mind occupied. The silver already gleamed and Silas warned her she would polish it away to nothing if she kept at it. She was debating whether or not to pull down the curtains and beat any dust out of them when the front door opened. Seeing the tracks of tears on Audra's face, Victoria rushed over and gathered her daughter into her arms.

"Audra, Heath, what happened?"

"Oh, Mother, it's just horrible," Audra sobbed. "They're taking down Father's statue!"

Victoria looked at Heath, who nodded confirmation as he took off his hat and laid it on the hall table. She stroked Audra's hair soothingly while pushing back her own tears. "I always thought it _was_ a bit pretentious, anyway," she said, trying to make light of the situation.

"But, Mother…" Audra protested.

Victoria just shook her head. "Your father was a great man," she reminded Audra. "He stood up for what he believed in, not for recognition or personal gain, but because he knew it was the right thing to do. He had courage, pride and integrity and those qualities live on. That's how Tom Barkley would want to be remembered, through the living monuments of his children, not some cold, impersonal tribute." Victoria looked from the tear-streaked face of her daughter to the sky blue eyes of the son who never knew his father but looked so much like him, the son who was now as much her own as those she'd borne.

Audra sniffed and nodded, forcing a smile onto her face. "You're right, Mother," she conceded, as if saying it would make it true. "I think I'm going to go change and go for a ride. It's much too lovely of a day to spend indoors." Victoria gave her an encouraging smile, proud of her daughter's resilience.

Heath handed Victoria the mail as Audra headed up the stairs.

"Anything from Jarrod?" the silver-haired matriarch asked as she sorted through the letters.

"Yep." Heath pulled the telegram out of his pocket. "Says he's pretty much finished selling things off and he's made the arrangements to pay the money back. He thinks he should be home by tomorrow." Heath paused and Victoria could tell he wanted to say more. She laid a gentle hand on his arm.

"What is it, Heath?"

"It's just…I'm sorry, Mother."

Victoria looked at him in askance. "Whatever would you have to be sorry for?"

Heath met her eyes briefly before dropping his gaze to the floor. "For coming here," he said quietly. "No one questioned Tom Barkley's integrity before I arrived. Maybe if I hadn't come and shaken everyone's faith in him, folks would be more willing to believe he had nothing to do with the money going missing."

"Oh, Heath." Victoria cupped his cheek in her hand and he brought his blue eyes to meet hers. She could see the guilt in those eyes, guilt he had no business feeling. "There are always people wanting to tear down a great man and who delight in his fall. None of this is your fault. I thank God every day for bringing you to us and no amount of money could ever equal your value to this family."

Heath gave her a lopsided grin as she reached up and kissed his cheek. "Well, reckon if I don't want my value to end up going down, I'd best get to work before Nick comes looking for me," he joked. Heath grabbed his hat and turned back before he left the house, blue eyes full of love. "Thank you, Mother," he said, closing the door behind him.

Victoria breathed a deep sigh and drifted into the library. Her eyes caught the large portrait of Tom Barkley above the fireplace mantel and she smiled, remembering the strong, larger than life man who'd built all this from his own blood, sweat and tears. She knew his legacy was so much more than the financial empire he left, now gone in the blink of an eye, but with it all crumbling down around them, from the money to the Barkley good name, it was hard to keep focused on what was really important. She took a deep breath and the images of her children came to mind.

Jarrod, her dark-haired lawyer, so full of passion for justice, the father figure his siblings all looked to.

Nick, her big, brash cowboy, loud, impatient, but with a heart bigger than the land he loved.

Audra, her golden one, fiery, impetuous with a flair for rebellion, always looking out for those less fortunate.

And Heath, the son of her heart if not her body, quiet, introspective, possessing an inner strength that rivaled any of his siblings'.

Thinking about them, Victoria knew she was one of the richest women on earth.

"We'll make it, Tom," she said softly, "We'll persevere, just like we always have."

.

.

_Author's note: When I was writing this, I was struck by how many times during the series the Barkleys are vilified by the people of Stockton and how few times anyone from town actually helps them out. Gave me something to think about. LL_


	4. Chapter 4

**May 21, 1877**

"Dammit, Heath, we need that thresher!"

Heath caught the door before the force of Nick's entry could slam it shut. "I know we do, Nick, but you heard what the man said. There's just no way it can be fixed."

"Yeah, I heard him!" Nick threw his hat violently down on the hall table and stripped his gloves off as though each finger had personally offended him.

Victoria swept into the room. "Nick, can you please keep your voice down?" she asked, exasperated.

"No, I can't keep my voice down, Mother! Do you have any idea what just happened?"

Victoria sighed. "No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me."

Nick slapped the gloves on the table beside his hat. "Damn right I'm going to tell you!"

"Nicholas Jonathan Barkley!" The severe tone in his mother's voice made the volatile rancher pause, realizing what he'd just done. "If you can't control your language, I suggest you go back out to the barn where you belong!"

"Sorry, Mother," he said with chagrin. "But the whole thing just makes me so da- doggone mad!"

"Oh, I can tell." Victoria turned to the more levelheaded blond. "Heath, why don't you tell me what's going on?"

Heath took off his tan hat and held it, looking at it as if it could help him say what needed to be said. He glanced up and Victoria's grey gaze caught his. "The threshing machine's broke. Had someone come out and take a look at it, says it can't be fixed."

"_And_ we've already got the wheat reaped and bound!" Nick stomped to the parlour, grabbed a glass, poured himself a drink and slammed the decanter back down, causing the crystal to shake.

Victoria looked questioningly at Heath, who just shook his head. "Well, it'll work out," she maintained. "I know a lot of places hire a thresher. I'm sure we can do the same."

"Yeah," Nick snorted, "that's always assuming we can find someone. Far as I can tell, no one's willing hire one out to a Barkley." Nick's shoulders slumped, anger dissolving into depression. "Jarrod's in town, seeing if he can find one we can buy, but…" Victoria could see the defeat in her son's hazel eyes. "Don't know what's worse, not being able to afford to replace it or not having anyone willing to give us a hand."

Heath put a reassuring hand on the black clad shoulder. "Mother's right, big brother. It'll work out."

"Yeah," Nick said again, more quietly. He turned when he heard the door open. "Well?" he demanded of his eldest brother. "What did you find out?"

Jarrod walked past Nick, going instead to first place a kiss on Victoria's cheek. "Hello, Mother."

"Jarrod," she said in return, knowing from her son's expression it wasn't good news. "I believe Nick asked you a question."

Jarrod glanced from expectant face to expectant face. "I'm afraid that the only way we're going to finish harvesting the wheat is with cash we don't have or a loan at an interest rate of 40%," he said as matter-of-factly as possible.

"What?" The rest of the family could swear the windows rattled at the volume of Nick's outburst. "That's outright robbery!"

"Which, I was told when I voiced the same objection," Jarrod informed them as he removed his own hat and gloves, "is no more than the Barkleys deserve."

Victoria heaved a deep sigh as she sank onto the settee by the fireplace. Nick tossed back his drink and poured another, which he swallowed just as quickly.

"What are we gonna do, Jarrod?" Heath asked. "I don't know exactly what the finances are like, but we were going to use that crop for our payroll. Can we still cover it?"

Jarrod, seeing that Nick wasn't about to offer to serve anyone else, poured drinks for his mother and younger brother as well as himself, then took a seat beside Victoria. "Well, I did have an offer from A.J. Marshall," he said, not directly answering Heath's question. "He offered to buy our unthreshed grain at fifty cents a bushel."

"Jarrod-!"

Jarrod turned flinty blue eyes on his irate brother. "I don't like it any more than you do, Nick, but that's the best offer we're getting."

"It might pay the bills," Heath said, toting up the numbers in his head.

Jarrod glanced over and saw the glitter of unshed tears in his mother's eyes. He put his arm around her, drawing her close until her head rested on his shoulder. "We'll do fine, Mother," he tried to assure her. "We still have this house and we still have each other. If nothing else," and he looked to his brothers for confirmation as he said this, "if nothing else, we can always sell off more of the ranch."

"No!" Victoria's vehemence almost outrivaled Nick's. "Whatever we do, that _has_ to be our last resort!"

The brothers shared a smile at their petite mother's determination. They'd sat up having a few late night discussions over the past couple weeks. When Heath had brought up selling, stating they could surely live with a few thousand less acres, his older brothers assured him that it likely wouldn't come to that, but they'd consider it if they had to. However, with Victoria's violent denial and knowing her iron will, they knew as a family they could and would stand strong.

"We can hold out until we sell the herd," Nick said, purpose strengthening his posture. "There'll be just over a thousand steers ready for market in a few weeks."

Jarrod went to the desk and retrieved paper and pencil from the desk before sitting back down. "And I'm sure we can economize in other ways. Let's see what we can come up with, shall we?"


	5. Chapter 5

**June 9, 1877**

Jarrod tossed the bill onto the desk in front of Nick. "Nick, you've got to be more careful."

Earlier in the day, Nick was in town saying farewell to Melanie De Land. They'd tried, but too many things had happened for the two of them to go back to the way things were and Melanie finally decided to take her uncle up on his offer for her to come and live with him in St. Louis.

Nick decided to stop off for a drink or two after waving goodbye as the train left the station. Knowing Harry still welcomed Barkleys in his establishment, Nick ordered a whiskey from his longtime friend and leaned against the bar, trying to ignore everyone else ignoring him.

That was when the Morton brothers arrived. J.R. started making snide comments about Tom Barkley and the family in general, which Nick stoically ignored. But when Zack stated that Audra would soon be working at the saloon to make ends meet, Nick had taken enough. He spun around, placing a well-earned fist in Zack Morton's teeth and an all-out melee ensued, with the sheriff stepping in when J.R. went through Harry's front window.

Nick leaned back in the chair and slammed his feet on the desk. "What, are you saying we can't afford to pay for a broken window and a few tables and chairs?" he demanded of his older brother.

"No, I'm not saying that." Jarrod poured the last of the scotch from the decanter into a glass. He sighed, knowing there was only one more bottle of his favorite stored in the cellar and decided he should save the good stuff for special occasions. "I'm just saying we can't afford to pay for them on a routine basis." He turned to Nick, adding with a smile, "At least try to confine your brawling to the street where you won't break anything besides your own face."

"Jarrod, if you would've heard what those Mortons were saying…"

Jarrod took a drink, savoring the taste. "If I heard what they were saying, I probably would have done the same as you, brother Nick," the lawyer admitted. "I just hope I would've tried to throw J.R. in a direction _other_ than the window."

The brothers shared a chuckle as Heath came to stand in the doorway. Nick's feet came off the desk with a thud as he saw the expression on the blond's face.

"I think you both need to come with me," Heath told them.

Jarrod put down his drink, a feeling of dread building in the pit of his stomach. "What is it, Heath?"

"Anthrax."


	6. Chapter 6

_Some series dialogue here, slightly changed. A big thanks to those great series writers._

_._

_.  
_

It was a quiet, almost desperate atmosphere in the Barkley home that night. Over a hundred head already dead, and they all knew an anthrax epidemic could spread through the herd like wildfire.

"Isn't there anything we can do?" asked Audra over dinner.

"No, not a damn thing," Nick growled, stabbing at the food on his plate.

Jarrod toyed with his coffee cup. "How many head did we lose last time, Nick? That epidemic we had five years ago?"

"Close to three thousand."

The silence that came over the table was almost palpable as they reflected on the amount of stock they still had left.

Victoria thought of something. "Didn't I read somewhere about a possible cure for anthrax? Something called…vaccination, I think it was?"

Jarrod nodded, but not with any enthusiasm. "Yes, I read about it too. But it's still experimental and even if it wasn't, where would we get the money to pay for it? We were counting on the sale of that herd to get us back on our feet."

"Well, maybe it won't be so bad." Nick tried to inject some optimism into the conversation. "I mean, I've seen anthrax come one day and disappear the next."

"And I've seen it when it hasn't," Heath reminded him. "Besides, there's no way anyone'll let us take the cattle to market for at least a month, and that assumes we go ahead and shoot them all or they just stop dying right now."

Jarrod spoke up. "I had an offer a couple days ago. I didn't mention it since we agreed to do what we could to not sell off any more land, but now… Wally Miles offered to purchase some of the property that borders his place. It's a decent offer and might help keep us afloat."

"Jarrod, we need the water on that land!" Nick insisted.

"Don't you think I know that?" Jarrod shot back. "Wally assured me we'd still have water rights! Do you think I'd even consider it if it wasn't necessary?"

"Now, boys," Victoria broke in, trying to diffuse the understandably short tempers. "Jarrod, are you sure the money Wally's offering will be enough?"

"On its own, I don't think it will quite cover everything, Mother," Jarrod replied, "but if we make some more cuts, we just might be okay. It's either that, or ask the bank for a loan."

There was another silence as they considered the likelihood of the bank being willing to extend them a loan at a reasonable rate, considering the anti-Barkley sentiment that was still prevalent in town.

"Well, I have been thinking we don't need quite as big of a crew," Nick said slowly. "I'd like to keep the men who've been with us for years, but I figure we can let about ten or eleven go."

"Mother, that trip we planned to go visit Aunt Ruth in Denver, I'm sure she'd understand if we cancelled it," Audra stated helpfully.

"And I've decided to sell the townhouse and close down my San Francisco office," Jarrod told them.

"Jarrod!" Victoria exclaimed in shock. The rest of the family just looked surprised.

Jarrod smiled wryly. "I've been thinking about it these past couple weeks. It probably won't surprise you to hear business has dropped off lately. The prejudice against the Barkley name has extended even to 'Frisco. If I consolidate my practice in Stockton, I can cut out travel expenses and the cost of maintaining a residence in the city." He let out an ironic laugh. "And if business is too slow, I can always help out around here."

Nick gave a snort. "I guess those lily-white hands might be good for something. What do you think, Heath? Think the lawyer here can do the work of at least half a cowhand?"

"Guess we could put him to work digging postholes," Heath replied thoughtfully.

"And you can count on me as well, just tell me how deep to dig them and how far apart," Audra declared with a smile. "After all, this is my ranch too."

The somber mood eased as Nick and Heath started detailing the chores they could assign to their brother and sister, causing snorts of outrage and bursts of laughter around the table.

_I think you'd be proud of them, Tom_, Victoria thought silently, observing the undaunted spirit and warm camaraderie of their family, _I know I am._


	7. Chapter 7

**August 10, 1877**

"Ha ha, look at this, Pappy!" Nick slammed the thick envelope onto the desk in front of Jarrod.

"And hello to you too, brother Nick," Jarrod greeted, making the last notation on the account he was working on. "I knew the peace and quiet we've had around here couldn't last."

Nick ignored the jibe and took out the envelope's contents to wave the stack of bills in front of his brother's face. "Top dollar, Jarrod! 1One hundred dollars a head, almost as much as the army gave us last summer! Most of it's in the bank, but I thought we should take out enough to give each of the men a bonus, plus all the back pay we owe them."

"And they deserve every penny of it, Nick," Jarrod agreed, thinking of the loyal, hard working men who stuck with them over the past several months. The men had banded together and refused to draw their pay until the Barkleys were able to get the cattle to market, making it unnecessary to sell off any land. "Now we should be able to hire some decent workers and get in the pear and peach harvest. I finally found a buyer in Sacramento who wants to ship it east."

"Then we can build the herds back up," Nick added eagerly.

Jarrod had to chuckle at Nick's enthusiasm. "I think we have to harvest the fruit before you start spending the profits," he cautioned his impetuous younger brother.

Much to everyone's relief, the anthrax epidemic had been mild compared to what it could have been, and with a little hard work, the Barkleys could re-establish a cattle enterprise close to what they had in the past. And with the new contracts, it wouldn't be long before the ranch was truly profitable again.

Victoria entered the library, Heath and Audra following, arm in arm. "I'm glad you're home, sweetheart," she welcomed Nick with a smile and a kiss. "Heath told me how successful your trip was. I asked Silas to bring up a bottle of champagne so we can celebrate properly."

"Mother, I hate to ask, but do you think I might be able to buy a new dress?" Audra asked hopefully. "The new styles in Godey's Ladies Book are just so beautiful this year."

Victoria smiled at her daughter indulgently, but Heath was the first to reply.

"Boy howdy, sis, with the way Nick was wheeling and dealing those livestock buyers, I'm sure you can get yourself a new dress _and_ a hat to go with it," Heath said with a grin for his little sister.

Just then, Silas burst into the room. "Mr. Jarrod, Mr. Nick, Mr. Heath, you have to come quick, something just terrible's happened!"

"What is it Silas?" demanded Nick.

"The sheriff was just at the door. A fire broke out near the orphanage, they need all the help they can get."

"I'll round up the men," Heath volunteered as he left.

"Let's get the horses saddled, Jarrod," Nick instructed, both men following their blond brother.

Victoria turned to Audra and Silas. "The children might need a place to stay," she said. "Let's bring down all the spare blankets and pillows. We have plenty of space to take some of them in."

.

.

Later that night, after making sure the dozen or so displaced children were sound asleep in the various bedrooms, the family retired to the library. Nothing much was said as Jarrod offered his brothers a cigar, which Nick accepted and Heath declined.

"Were you able to save anything?" Victoria finally asked.

Jarrod wearily shook his head. "No. It pretty much burned to the ground. Let's all just be thankful no one was hurt."

The family was silent again, each contemplating the daunting and expensive task of rebuilding. A few months ago, the only question would have been how big of a cheque to write. Now it was, could they afford to do anything at all?

It was Audra who spoke up first. "Well, I'm going to use the money I was intending to spend on a dress to buy the children some new toys. I'm sure I can just remake my old ones and they'll look just as good. And there's a trunk or two full of clothes from when we were children still in the attic."

"Heath, don't we have some bundles of shingles out in the barn from when we repaired the bunkhouses last spring?" Nick wanted to know.

"Sure do," Heath confirmed. "And I'm sure I can scare up some lumber. I've knocked together a few buildings in my day."

"I know I'm not an expert carpenter like you, brother Heath," Jarrod added with a chuckle, "but I'm definitely capable of pounding a few nails to put up some walls. And I'm sure with Audra's assistance, we can find more people willing to help."

As spirits were raised by the lively discussion of plans for rebuilding, Victoria smiled at the portrait of Tom Barkley hanging above the mantel. It might take time to get back what they had, but she and Tom built their life with nothing more than love and determination and that love and determination had been passed on to their children. Victoria's heart knew that whatever life threw at them, the Barkley family would always be blessed with wealth beyond compare.

.

FIN

.

.

May you always have

Walls for the wind

And a roof for the rain

And drinks by the fire.

Laughter to cheer you

And those you love near you

And all that your heart may desire.– _Old Irish blessing_


End file.
